


The Director

by fictionalfaerie



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Rescue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 19:48:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9340526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionalfaerie/pseuds/fictionalfaerie
Summary: Someone is groaning. It’s a familiar sound, and he thinks perhaps it might be him, but he’s not sure that he can be certain of such things anymore.The pain, however, is most certainly his.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently this is a thing I'm doing now. Hoorah.  
> Much love and gratitude to Nikki and Emily for their encouragement.  
> 

Someone is groaning. It’s a familiar sound, and he thinks perhaps it might be him, but he’s not sure that he can be certain of such things anymore. Once, yes, but not anymore. 

The pain, however, is most certainly his. 

Through another groan (probably his, probably) he hears someone saying his name, firmly. Not quite as harshly, as nastily, as he’s become accustomed to, but nevertheless, distinct: “Graves.” 

He can’t, though. Not again, not anymore. He musters what energy he can and thrashes to the side, trying to avoid whatever is coming his way, using everything he has to try to disarm them, to get away, to call for help, anything. The words tangle, coming out garbled, but he grunts in satisfaction as he hears the yelp that follows a successful _Stupefy_. 

It doesn’t help, though. It doesn’t slow them down, or maybe they’ve brought accomplices this time, because he’s being restrained. He thinks the yelling might be his, but it might just be that his voice has been stolen again. Restrained, restrained, hands on him, voices-----

\-----

\-----it’s quiet. There’s a low hum, and he can almost place it. He’s heard it a fair few times in his life, he just… can’t… place it… There are voices, soft and whispering. He can’t make out their words, but they don’t carry the same weight as they have recently.

He manages to open his eyes, and though he’s positive that the lights aren’t particularly bright and are almost certainly at a normal level, it doesn’t stop them from blinding him. He blinks against them, groaning (definitely groaning, definitely him). 

“I think he’s waking up,” one of the voices says. 

He manages to open his eyes again, ignoring the way they water at the lights, and is met with the Goldstein’s face. 

“Sir?” she asks, but he can’t be sure, he can’t trust that this isn’t a trick. How is he to know if they’ve stolen her as well?

He gets a disarming spell muttered, smirking in satisfaction that they’ve not managed to take his powers from him, before they take him out this time. It doesn’t seem like much, but at least it lets them know they’ve not broken him yet. At least he’s still got-----

\-----

\-----pain searing through him, ripping across every bone in his body, seizing him up. He struggles, sitting up and lashing out, eyes coming open and taking in the room. There are too many of them, too many of them, he can’t possibly overcome the numbers. They’ve stolen all their faces, Goldstein and Rogers and Maxwell and apparently the whole damned department has been taken down by this fiend, haven’t they? It’s got to be a nightmare, this can’t be real, it can’t be.

They’re all looking at him, hands ready to grab their wands, and he thinks that horrible noise might be coming from him but he can’t stop it can’t do anything about it can’t make it stop can’t- one steps forward and he tenses. He doesn’t know this one. His eyes flicker over the figure in front of him as he struggles to breathe. 

Redhead, slim, not particularly intimidating- ha. As if he’s naive enough to be fooled by that. He tries to steady his breathing, trying to figure out if he has another spell in him- it’d be so much easier if he just had his wand. Had their wands. Had any wand. If he could just- 

“Percival, take it easy, shhh, now,” the man’s saying, hands out. After a few moments of staring at one another, the man turns to the room, “Could you lot give us a moment, please?”

Goldstein looks set to argue- no, no, the thing wearing Goldstein’s face- but stops as the man clears his throat. The others are looking to her, waiting, and she finally nods, ushering them toward the door, “Just a minute, though, Newt. Any longer and we’re coming in. Any struggle and we’re coming in.” 

“Of course, Tina. It’ll be fine, though. We’ll be fine. We’re just going to take a few moments to ourselves,” the man- Newt? Where has he heard that?- tells her. Impossibly, Goldstein listens. Rogers and Maxwell follow her, shifty but obedient. 

Graves feels his face twist into a snarl, feels himself scooting a bit, edging away from the man. The man who turns to him now, alone in the room with him, and- 

Sits on the floor, legs pretzeled into themselves. Graves waits a few moments, allows himself to relax the slightest bit. He’s not relaxed, but it does no good to waste energy being tense. You can be just as alert relaxed, maybe even moreso.

The man smiles weakly at him, “I’m so sorry for what you’ve been through. It can’t… it can’t have been easy. And waking up with everyone hovering, making a fuss, that’s got to be disconcerting. I’m so sorry for the ordeal, that no one caught on earlier, Mr. Graves.” 

Graves lets out a rough laugh. Does the man not realize he’s the best auror his department has seen in decades? He knows all about interrogations. Ease them into the moment, converse with them. He snarls, manages a rough, “What do you want.” 

It’s not a question, more a demand. 

The man looks startled for a moment, then raises his hands again, “I just want them to let you be. To let you calm down. You can’t just barge in and subdue everything how you want it. You can’t just rip something free from it’s cage and expect it to trust you on that alone. Fools. They need to-” 

The man cuts himself off, and it takes him a moment to realize it’s likely due to the way he cringed away at the man’s phrasing- rip something free from it’s cage. He can’t have been… except, it’s true. He’s no longer in the horrible space. He seems to be in a hospital, even. Surely the whole hospital’s not been taken over. Although, he might not put it past--- Grindelwald, there we go, don’t shy away from the name, call it what it is. Who knows what havoc the monster’s wreaked in… Merlin, how long has he been gone? 

After a few beats, he manages to ask the man who he is. 

“Oh, bugger, sorry. I’m Newt,” he says. And there’s that name again. It sits heavy on the back of Graves’ tongue. Why does he know that name? “I think, uh, perhaps you know my brother? You’ve at least spoken a bit with him. He’s who sent me here, so I assumed it was more than just an in passing acquaintance? Picquery was a bit annoyed, I think, that I came back after she told me to get out, but she wasn’t about to start arguing with _him_ , all things considered.” 

Newt. The name’s certainly familiar, but he can’t place it. He considers, and gets out a quiet, “Brother?” 

“Yes! My brother, he’s an auror with the Ministry? Theseus Scamander?” 

That makes sense, Graves thinks. He’s been writing back and forth with Theseus for a few years now, an assignment in school which led to a casual enough correspondence. Took a dip during the war, but picked back up before- before- before. 

“Mr. Graves, is there anything I can do for you or get for you that might help?” Newt asks, still calmly seated in the floor. 

Graves considers this man. If he knows about Theseus, knows about the correspondence. Scamander’s a good man, strong wizard. He’s a good man, too, though, with a formidable set of skills. If Grindelwald overtook him, who’s to say he hasn’t been doing it all over? But surely he can’t hold down that many places, can’t have such an intricate web? And how would he know about the letters, know to use them against him even if he did find them somehow? 

He feels as though he’s been awake for years, though the conversation surely hasn’t even lasted half an hour’s time. He’s just so tired. He glances toward the door, then back at Newt. 

Scamander. 

It’s as good as anyone else. He settles, allowing himself to find some comfort in the bed, and tells the man, “There’s nothing to be done for me.” 

“Thought as much,” Newt responds, smiling in a way that leaves Graves feeling like maybe this man hurts as much for him as he does for himself. “The way they found you after we put Grindelwald away… it’s a miracle you’re still here, sir. You don’t just bounce back from that sort of thing.” 

“Put him- they got him?” 

Newt startles at the question, then frowns, “Have they not even told you yet? Good gracious, no wonder. Yes, they definitely caught Grindelwald. There was, ah, quite a to do, really, surrounding the whole affair. It worked out, though, he was taken down and I- er- we sorted out that he wasn’t really you, so he was taken into custody. Nasty bit of business, but! All was salvaged, nothing lasting done, really. Not on a significant scale, a couple of personal scales, obviously. The biggest issue was that you were missing and no one was certain on how to go about finding you…” 

After a few moments, in which Newt seems to chew his lip and consider things, he continues, “They interrogated him. I don’t know the details, but it sounds like quite a few regulations were broken in the process, they did everything they could think of. He wouldn’t break, though. I think it was Theseus who suggested the locator spell that finally found you, though. When they couldn’t get you to wake up, Theseus asked me to come keep an eye on you, see if there was anything I could do to help maybe. I’m afraid I’ve not been much use, really, but I’m glad to be here now. Who knows how many more false starts they’d have with the struggles you’ve been putting up waking up- I can’t believe they haven’t told you that Grindelwald’s put away by now.” 

Graves has to take a moment, has to press his eyes shut and process those words. He wants to believe this man so much. He wants to give in and believe him, but he knows that’s a dangerous path. 

“Why’d Picquery want you gone?” he asks, curious about an earlier comment that’s been rolling around in his brain. 

Newt blinks in confusion at the topic change, then flushes scarlet. “Er, yes, about that. Tina caught me doing some magic in front of a muggle- ah, no-maj, we call them---” 

“I know what a muggle is, don’t worry.” 

“Ah, well, then, yes. Magic, muggle. And we accidentally switched cases, and my beasts got loose- I’m a magizoologist, I suppose I should say- and so we had to hunt those down. Tina tried to arrest me, but y-Grindelwald, that is- was less than accepting of her help. Framed us a bit for some trouble he was inciting. It was really a whole mess. But in the end, it worked out, as I mentioned. No lasting damage to your city, Mr. Graves.” 

Graves nods. He definitely recalls Theseus mentioning his brother now. Traveling the world and writing a book about magical beasts. 

There’s a sharp rap at the door and he tenses, relaxing only marginally as Goldstein sticks her head in, “Everything okay in here? Newt? Mr. Graves?” 

Newt nods, “Perfectly fine, Tina.” 

Goldstein smiles at them as Graves nods his own satisfaction, “Well, then. Good job, then, fellas. We’re still right out here, should you need us.” 

As the door closes, they can hear her telling Rogers to go find some chairs for them. 

He rolls his eyes, but as he begins to doze off, he thinks maybe things might be okay. Maybe he really is safe, comfortable in a hospital, watched over by his finest aurors and this quiet man who seems to be fiddling with a vibrant green twig. Maybe. 

And if it’s not as it seems… well, there are worse ways to finally be broken.

**Author's Note:**

> Fictionalfaerie - dusty and largely unused writing Tumblr, revamping in the next day or two  
> Faerieishee - main Tumblr, just a mess
> 
> Prompts welcome (see Tumblr for ask box or whatnot)~  
> Also totally open to anyone wanting to discuss the various ideas I have floating around or anyone who may want to beta some upcoming short ficlets~


End file.
